Time is a strange thing. We angels are bound by it, more so than our Royal Father, though less so than those who live in the physical world. While to the humans it is movement, a passage around the sun, to us it is action, what we do and say and learn. As we continue our work, we learn to feel time passing, as a wind that brushes one’s wings and whispers, never silent.
To me, this is just another day of listening to that still, small voice. But if I were human, I would note that today marks one year since I began my work.
I have learned so much in the past year, more than I could ever say in words, though of course I will try. I have learned how to move across the face of the Earth, and how to protect myself from the pain of its taint. I have seen both the goodness and the cruelty of humans, who are capable of helping strangers and hurting their own flesh and blood. I have seen the deep beauty of their world, both its physical shape and its shadowed spirit. The painful cut of grief, the dull ache of despair, the dragging weight of depression—but also the spinning gasp of new love, the exhilaration of another’s touch, the warm relief of laying one’s burdens on a trustworthy shoulder. I have seen wisdom to rival that of an angel, compassion and strength and humor all under a cap of flaming hair. I have felt both the censure of my seniors and their praise and honor. And even as I have gathered more power than I would have thought possible in such a short time, I am also humbled by the greatness of this terrible, awe-inspiring world and my smallness in it.
Someday, I will step out into that world, to fight the Long Battle with my own heart and spirit. For now, however, I have work to do, and I mean to be about it with a glad heart.